Our lil secret
by sweetnuthings
Summary: Mia spends afternoon with someone you wouldn't quite expect. R


_**All these characters belong to Meg Cabot; I just like to mess with them!**_

**Our little Secret**

We're sitting under a tree, just the two of us, on a sunny afternoon. We've done this a few times, stayed here for hours until it got dark, just lying here, silent. Sure, we talk, occasionally, but I prefer it this way. There's so much being said without the words in just the tiny actions we make. Like when he grips my hand in his, and doesn't let go. The smiles he sends me. The tiny kisses he places along my skin.

I could lie here forever, in his arms. Skin on skin. Certain English teachers might reprimand me for such a cliché but I don't care. I've never felt this way about anyone before, and I just don't ever want it to end. He's holding me so close to him and anything I was thinking about is just gone out of my head.

The others don't know about this place, and maybe that's why I love it so much here. It's our little secret place, away from the world, where we can forget everything and everyone, and just let all our emotions run riot for a few hours. Then go back down to earth, and pretend that everything is as normal. Not that what we're doing is wrong, not that it would hurt anyone…except maybe her, and somehow I doubt it. She dumped him a while ago, and while she's still single, she's happier that way. It's just I've always not liked him. He's my friend, my friends ex, and that's all. But here, in our place, where nobody else comes in, it's different. There isn't the difference between us that there is around everyone else.

He feeds me a grape out of my lunchbox, seedless and juicy. I reward this with a kiss, long and passionate, one that I've been longing to give for ages, and he certainly seems to relish it. He brushes his hand off my shirt, but doesn't let his hands wander. That's what I love so much about him, so unassuming, almost innocent. Not that he doesn't know what he's doing, he does. He's no longer the innocent guy who lets his girlfriend dictate what he does. If I'm his girlfriend. I am, I guess, he's said time and time again that he loves me, and I've repeated it, meant it. We're not going public because we prefer it this way. It'll come out some time, but for now its better this way.

He sits up, pulls me closer to him, my head resting on his shoulder. I can see Lars sitting on a bench, metres away. He's the only one that knows, has been sworn to secrecy. He agreed to sit away from us, about 50 metres away, but that's the furthest he can go. "For my own safety". Not that we care, 50 metres is away, but still within the safe zone. And Lars won't tell what I don't want him to tell.

He brushes my hair off my face, kisses it gently. This is why I love him, the little things he does.

"Mia?"

The way he says my name, rolls it of his tongue, makes me want him all the more. He looks me in the eye, and my self-restraint is all that's stopping me pinning him down and kissing him and never stopping.

"Yeah?"

He's gorgeous. I love him so much at this moment in time, especially when he nervously utters the next three words.

"I love you."

He's always nervous about saying it, its kind of cute. We're both sixteen, and while this isn't the first love for both of us, it feels more special than anything I've ever experienced. I did love Michael, but it just wouldn't work, and we ended up breaking up before I went to Genovia for the Summer. September rolled around and I hadn't found a true love in Genovia, and it was back to school. She'd broken up with him over the summer, my best friend had finally gotten with the guy she'd wanted all year, and Mia Thermopolis was single again. So was he, slightly more heartbroken than his ex. That's when our first meeting here happened, I asked him did he want to talk, and we went for a walk after school. He'd told me everything, nearly broken down in tears, and we sat under the tree, and I talked about Michael and started to cry and he kissed me. And it just felt so damn right I kissed him back. Not that it was an instant "Oh-MY-God-I-LOVE-YOU" moment. No, it took a few of these moments like that for me to realise I did love him. He was first to, nervously and reluctantly, say that he loved me, but I knew saying it back was right, so I did.

And now he was looking down on me, as I lay in his arms. There was only one thing I could say back.

"I love you too Boris."


End file.
